Patterns of the Human Journey

Patterns of the Human Journey presents a sequence of visual mandalas that describe the unfolding of consciousness during our life experience. This sequence of geometric symbols reveals the archetypal awakenings through which every person passes. Knowing these diagrams increases our skill in gaining clarity in confusion, harmony in conflict, and comfort in chaos.

Touching the Flower of Life

The Flower of Life is an ancient diagram generated from overlapping circles. It is said to depict the patterns of creation emerging from the formless source of life. It is also considered to describe the basis for musical harmonies, human proportions and the organization underlying numerous structures in nature.

I've never seen the Flower of Life drawn in three dimensions, so I drew this today to explore a more tangible, sensory experience of this beautiful, cosmic design. I'd love to hear about your experience seeing the Flower of Life in 3D, please leave a comment.

The Hidden Wealth in Simplicity

At one time or another, most of us have found beauty in simplicity. We've opened to the wonder of seeing gems of clarity amidst complications. Usually, we have the luxury of doing this by choice. We select simplicity from an abundance of options. Spare shapes, muted colors and quiet thoughts become preferences within louder possibilities. The zen of their peace and order are mixed with the sense of being in control. 


Simplicity imposed upon us by life's circumstances is another matter altogether. Lack of money, poor health or other restrictions beyond our control can force us into narrow lives we do not want. In contrast to the spaciousness and balance of chosen simplicity, imposed simplicity can be constricting and stressful. When our survival is put in danger by uncertain supplies of food, shelter and clothing, sensing beauty and calm can be the last thing on our minds.


These moments, however, offer access to the real power of simplicity. That power is not entered by making things simple through our will. It is experienced by surrendering to the flow of life energy that carries us through times of limitation. Such times of uncertainty challenge our assumptions about life. They rattle our relationships. They tear at the fabric of our world. If we resist, we suffer in fear. If we somehow embrace what is happening, a shake-up can open us up. Expanded beyond our control, we are humbled enough to appreciate the beauty of humble things. Imposed simplicity breaks our pretenses and makes keen our senses. A bowl of rice can become a feast. A bench beneath a shady tree can become a sanctuary.


I'm not romanticizing poverty. We all want to live in abundance. It's just that these days of economic restriction can test our limits. They can push us into hopelessness with no end in sight. If we are crossing such a time of drought, each sip of water is a blessing. Savoring the depths of the simple blessings we find, we can be strengthened by their miraculous beauty and power. Finding strength in simplicity we can access the wealth hidden with each step of our way.

A New Home Comes from a New Dream

Last night I dreamt that I tore down my old house. At first I thought I did this to rebuild the structure in better condition. Then I realized I didn't have to follow the old design, but could build something entirely new. I was free to create a house that fit who I am becoming now. This dream expressed what I've seen over and over again. We talk glowingly of building dream houses, but mostly we cut and paste from old dreams. As a result, we inhabit old patterns of behavior and never discover the fresh possibilities life offers.


To dream a new dream takes courage. We have to risk looking beyond preconceived ideas and peer into the unknown. We have to look past the countless thoughts that fascinate our minds and gaze into the thoughtless spaciousness from which our thoughts arise. These spacious waters terrify the mind. It clings to the safety of what it knows, or thinks it can know. The mind thinks that curiosity alone can discover new visions. The curious mind, however, finds what it already knows. New dreams can only arise from the dreamer who is perceiving the changing visions of the dream. This perceiver is the silent awareness at the core of our experience.


The place of dreaming is the blank page, the empty canvas, the void in the cooking pot. These frames assist us in seeing what is emerging within the frame. Before starting a design, the real work of discerning the vision is done by sitting and gazing into empty page. It is resisting the mind's urge to display its cleverness and jump to a sparkling solution. The vision comes from patience and a willingness to see new forms. It comes from letting go of personal authorship and receiving what is being authored by life. A thousand voices may try to distract your attention. Yet, if you are steadfast in your stillness, you can see beyond the preconceived and conceive new forms and ways of living. As Virginia Wolfe wrote in Moments of Being, "Then one sees through the surface to the depths. In these moments I find one of my greatest satisfactions, not that I am thinking of the past, but that it is then that I am living most fully in the present."

Interdependence Day

Independence is not possible without inter-dependence. Freedom does not exist without sensing our interconnection with everything else. "The self is made of non-self elements," the Buddhists say. Each of us could not have taken our first breath without the complex web of life that produces oxygen, DNA, food, language, shelter and clothing. At every moment this intricate network supports our every thought, word and action. 


Celebrating our independence is really celebration our awareness of inter-dependence. The kingly mindset believe it is separate from the rest of life. It pretends to lord over the world it thinks it owns.  To free ourselves from the illusion that we are each separate selves disconnected from the whole is to remember that we do not exist without the whole. 


For me, celebrating Independence Day is to celebrate my inter-dependence with you and the rest of life. Enjoy your celebration! 

How Do You Want to Live: A CBC Radio Podcast

I've made it my job to find the sacred in the ordinary. In this podcast Mary Hynes, the host of the CBC Radio program Tapestry, and I talk about how the divine is not limited to churches, mosques, synagogues and temples. We discuss how you can find it everywhere, if you just look - even in the lineup at the grocery store!

For thousands of years, much of humankind has believed that only special places are infused with the sacred and that you must get away from the everyday in order to find it. Not so, everything is infused with the holy - from chairs to clothing to kitchen stoves.

In my view, the holy is not based so much on the physical environment, but on the experience and perceptions of it. Take a listen for a new and fascinating perspective on the meaning of sacred in this program entitled How Do You Want to Live? Click Here to Listen to the Podcast

The Architecture of Re-Membering

Architecture is made of memory. The slope of a roof, the shape of a window, and the color of a door contain the record of the minds that conceived them and the hands that crafted them. This is never so clear as in the memorials that honor a person, group or event. At first glance they honor an achievement that took place in a particular moment in time. Looking deeper, we can see the courage those individuals expressed when they were thrown into the whirlpool of powerful and far reaching forces. Even deeper, we can see ordinary people, like ourselves, who responded to great challenges in extraordinary ways. Seeing how they brought forth their hidden strengths calls us to bring forth our hidden strengths.


These encounters with memorials are moments of re-membering. They counter the events that dis-membered our minds, bodies and cultures with healing powers of attention and care. Offering a handful of flowers before a head stone not only honors the person memorialized there. It also offers the ache in our souls a gesture for reweaving the torn fabric of our lives into a new and more human whole.


Since every building and designed object is made of memory, every place can become a memorial for re-membering our lives and the world around us. The words on this screen, for example, are made of eons of human struggle to develop a language that re-members our connections across the great divides between us. The table and chair at a cafe offers a setting to stop in the midst of a hectic day and re-member who we are and sense our interdependence with the web of living. In this way, every place can become a place of re-membering, a place to recollect the fragments of our lives into a revitalized whole.   

Creating a Kitchen for Your Soul

Your kitchen is calling. It's inviting you to engage the magic of transformation by taking the gifts of the earth and cooking them into meals that nourish the depths of your being. To make a kitchen for your soul, you don't need an expensive remodel. You don't need new cabinets or industrial strength appliances. All you need is to open your senses to the act of preparing food and the willingness to appreciate the simple miracle being created in the act.
  
It only takes a moment to shift your kitchen from a storage room for snacks into a place of soulful alchemy. Instead of unconsciously stumbling into your kitchen and grabbing something from the frig, plopping it on a plate and stuffing it in your mouth, try this. Stop, look at where you are and sense the possibilities. The stove is offering fire. The sink is providing water, the refrigerator and cupboards are filled with earthy bounty from the world's garden. All that's needed is for you to feel the desire in your belly and allow it to guide you in creating a meal. As you open the doors of the frig or cabinet to select the vegetables, grains and other items, savor the colors, shapes and design of the food. Imagine the fields and orchards they came from and the natural processes of weather and soil that produced them. As you slice and combine the ingredients, notice how your participation transforms the raw materials of nature and sense your consciousness as an ingredient being blended into the mix. When you place the mixture on the stove or in the oven, feel the power of fire to release the flavors from within the food. 


When the meal is cooked, serve it and eat it with the same attention you put into the preparation. Appreciate the colors and aroma of the food. Enjoy the shapes and materials of the plates and eating utensils. Actually taste what you are tasting. Feel the nourishment of what your are swallowing. Breathe and notice how easy it was to create a kitchen for your soul.  

The Design Question That Matters

Whether you are designing a closet, a kitchen or a garden, there's one question that's more important than style, budget or square footage. Glossy design magazines ignore this question and focus on shiny objects and dazzling gadgets. Most architects and designers overlook it as their minds glow with visions of innovative forms and dynamic spaces. This may produce beautiful and functional homes, but it often misses an essential ingredient: YOU!  

The creative question that matters and must be addressed if your house is to feel like home is this: "What do you want to experience?" If you don't ask this question, listen for the answers and shape your home to support what you want to experience there will always be a disconnect between you and your surroundings. 

When you choose a new set of flatware, admire its design and materials. More importantly, imagine using it to eat a meal. How does the fork feel in your hand? How will the spoon scoop soup and the fork butter bread? Do this with every design choice you make, from the chairs at your table the floor plan of your dream house on the hill. If you do, the flooring your choose will be supporting the personal character of your life, the walls will embrace your particular style of dwelling in the world and the roof will shelter you dreams, not somebody else's.    

Embracing the Endless Pilgrimage

We are all pilgrims on an elusive and endless road. This struck me as I watched the movie The Way. In the film, Martin Sheen plays a conservative, controlling father who is unexpectedly compelled to carry his dead son's ashes across Spain on the Camino de Santiago. For more than 1,000 years, travelers of all stripes have walked from every corner of Europe on this pilgrimage route to the cathedral in the west of the country where the remains of St. James are said to be enshrined.

The moment the movie began, tears welled up in my eyes and spilled over the rims. In the images of the pilgrimage road on the screen, my soul recognized its ancient and ongoing passage through the world. Though I've been to the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostella, I haven't walked the Camino de Santiago. I have, however, heeded the lifelong call of my soul to travel to pilgrimage sites all over the world and plumb the depths of my heart and mind. Over time, each day has become another stretch on an endless pilgrimage road. The terrain of this sacred journey has become fluid and ever-shifting. Every step of the way is an arrival, but not a place to linger. The languages spoken communicate what is beyond words.

What moves me deeply about pilgrimage is its accurate and poetic depiction of the human journey. Despite our attempts to build lives on stone foundations, our spirits continuously flow. Endless streams of consciousness ripple through our minds. Currents of energy shimmer through our bodies. Like shooting stars, we rocket through spacious stillness. But this silent, unmoving background is nothing like the granite ideas we use trying to take root in groundless soil. Instead of the solidity we seek, we pass through intangibility and impermanence. The pilgrimage removes the mask of certainty we hold tightly to our face. It says, let's get real and acknowledge we are all travelers on the way. Compelled by longings we define but know are indefinable, we move toward specific goals that when reached have no tangible substance.

When we acknowledge our lives are a pilgrimage, everything changes. Each person becomes a fellow traveler sharing the same road in his or her unique and personal way. Instead of going home at the end of the day, each step becomes an adventure and a homecoming. If we're tired, we learn to rest where we are. When we're hungry and thirsty, we learn the local language for finding food and drink. Lost and alone, we find companionship and direction from those nearby or from the compass in our soul. Instead of inhabiting a prison of dead routine, we dwell in a living landscape; each building and tree breathes; each event and relationship is a dialogue of life speaking with itself through that place and interaction. Life is far from what we expected and the journey is a mystery revealing ever deeper surprises.

Whether we take a dramatic walk along the Camino de Santiago or stroll down the path of a so-called quiet life, we have a choice. Fight the journey by straining to construct a solid home or engage our life as an unfolding wonder. We can either try to stand rigid in predictable formation or walk with nibble steps, responding to the music of the way. On second thought, we really don't have a choice. We may try to refuse the call of the pilgrim's road, but it can't be refused forever. No matter how tightly we struggle to build a solid house on immovable foundation, the earth eventually quakes and force us out the door. Each morning, we might as well lift the packs of experience and grasp our walking sticks of our skills. We might as well give in to the tug of our spirits to explore this confounding and wondrous world. We might as well greet each other as endless pilgrims and bid each other well on our way. Because we're already on the road and we always wandering through this endless world.